Umami: Summer of Salt outtakes
by lola-pops
Summary: Little glimpses into time we missed with the SoS crew. Missing scenes. Inner monologue. Heavy on the citrus.
1. The Missing Month

**Hello, friends!**

**The outtake has arrived! It's takes place after the July 5th of their first summer, and before the appearance of Tanya. It's EPOV. It's going to give you both some insight into his mental state during this time, and some lemonade as well. I wanted to give you some conversations that would've disrupted the flow if I had included them, but I think really add to the story as a whole. I can't even tell you how much I enjoyed getting back in this kid's head.**

**I must thank my betas LouderThanSirens, Momma Bear, and also ShearEnvy, who very graciously offered to help me out with this as well. Thanks to my prereader stephk0525, because she convinced me that I could write words that I didn't think I could write, and she is so supportive it makes me squee.**

**Also, many thanks to M of masenvixen, who provided the concept for the last lemon, and to wearingwords, who tweeted a very inspiring gif a few weeks ago. **

**So, without further ado, I give you Prickward.**

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Edward

What surprises me most about this summer is that I don't get bored. I don't get bored with this place, or with her.

She intimidates me. I'm surprised by that as well. She can speak intelligently about almost anything - politics, literature and thanks to her dad, even fishing.

I've known smart girls, but never one so comfortable with both her mind and her body. I get sucked in just by the way she talks and tells stories. When she's lost in something, a conversation, leaning forward and speaking passionately, I get lost with her. When she laughs, I smile.

I can feel the mask slipping.

Outside of my immediate family, Bella is probably the only person who has seen even a glimpse behind the façade in…fuck..._years_. It's not the first time a girl has tried to figure me out, but it's the first time I've let one get close enough to even have a chance of succeeding.

I want to know her, too. I'm fascinated by her life. I want to hear about her mom. I want to know what it was like spending summers here when she was a kid. I watch her with Rose and Jasper, jealous of their closeness. They are so in tune that they can have entire conversations without speaking a word.

More and more, I find myself dropping the act. No, I don't even drop it, because that would indicate that it's a conscious thing. She disarms me and I don't notice when it happens. I'm less aloof. I laugh more. I can't help being cocky, but I'm not as big of an asshole.

I may not always be aware of it, but Em is.

Sometimes I find him watching me, and the walls slam back into place. It gets harder every time, though, and I don't even know how to feel about that.

I try really hard not to think about what it means.

It's July 12th and Em and I are on a run. It's quiet and really fucking hot.

"We're gonna miss that banquet next month. Mom said it's on the 5th," he says out of the blue, like we were in the middle of a conversation or something. I frown, and then remember what he's talking about. Some stupid alumni shit that the team is supposed to attend, I think.

What runs through my mind next makes me stop, stumbling. I bend over, my hands on my knees. I feel sick.

He slows and loops back. "You okay, brother?" he asks. I can see his huge feet jogging in place out of the corner of my eye.

"Yeah." I raise myself up slowly, trying to catch my breath.

I'm way too hot, but the heat isn't what is making me feel like this. I lift my t-shirt and use it to wipe off my face.

"Okay, what's up? You're acting really fucking weird, kid." He's stopped running, and is standing in front of me with his arms crossed, scrutinizing my expression.

I want to lie. I really do, but he'll know anyway, so there's no point. "You said August 5th, and I swear to god the first thing that I thought was...fuck." I run my hands through my hair, closing my eyes for a second.

He waits patiently for me to get it together and continue. "I thought about how on August 5th, it would be one month since we were together...or whatever." I shake my head, looking off into the trees. "That sounds so fucking lame."

I sneak a glance at him. His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised. "Dude. You really fucking like her. I mean, shit, I could tell, but you _really_ fucking like her. You remember...the date."

"Yeah, well, it was the day after the 4th, so whatever."

He just shakes his head, disbelief plain on his face. "Wow."

I don't know why that pisses me off, but it does. "It doesn't matter. It won't change anything. Practice starts, and we leave."

He looks pained, and I can tell he's had the same thought.

His expression brightens after a second. "Maybe we can work it out, though, bro. People do this shit all the time. Move for each other, long distance..." He fades off when I start laughing. I regret it immediately. He stares at the ground.

"Sorry. Damn," I mumble. "It's just...you don't even know this girl, and you're thinking about moving for her?"

"What and you're not? I mean it didn't cross your mind that she could be the one?" His face is already red from the run, but he flushes further. I could say about a million things about the fact that he just said "the one" to me, but I don't. I suppress a laugh, though, and he can tell.

He steps closer, pointing a finger at me. He knows I hate that shit, and knows that he's the only one that can get away with getting in my face like that.

"I see you. You watch her like she's the only person in the room." My skin suddenly feels cold. "I've never seen you like that with a girl, man. Don't write it off just because you think it's what you're supposed to do. You haven't even asked her."

He stands there for a second, and then drops his hand. I don't think I have the look on my face that he was hoping for.

"I can't do that," I answer after a minute, and he groans even before I finish the sentence.

"Mother_fuck_, Edward. You can't stay closed off from everything, because if you do, you'll miss the bad shit, but you'll miss the good shit, too. You're allowed to be happy, you know."

I choose to ignore most of what he said; or at least, I'm not responding to it. "I _am_ happy, Em."

"Did you stop to think about why that is?"

I want to say something fucked up, like it's because I'm fucking a hot virgin or some other shitty remark, but I stop myself, because it feels wrong. "It doesn't matter," I repeat. The words don't come as easily this time.

He wants to say more, but I start a slow jog, waiting for him to catch up before I pick up speed. It takes him a few minutes to speak.

"You remember the date."

"You said 'the one'."

We run silently for a minute. "I know," he answers finally. I can't decipher the look on his face.

8888888888888888888

She's on her knees on the bed while I stand behind her, pulling her hips back to meet mine. I press gently on her back so she bends over further, pressing her cheek into the mattress. I watch her face.

I didn't know that I would feel this way... that the fact that I'm the first would consume me. Every time we try something new, I get to do it knowing that I'm the only one who's been there, to make her feel that way.

I'm all fucking possessive about it, and her.

I didn't know that would happen, either. If I could stop it, I would.

I should stop thinking about this shit while I'm inside her, but I get harder and thrust faster thinking about how I'm the only one who gets to do these things. My mind flashes back to the last week.

_On her back, her knees pulled up to her shoulders, both of us watching with our mouths open while I push in just a little and pull out, rubbing the head on her clit and pushing back in again. That time, she comes in under a minute._

_First._

_Her on top, unsure of her pace and movement, so I guide her hips until she gets it, and then let her go. She puts both hands on my chest for leverage, her tits bouncing and her face almost angry while she concentrates._

_First._

_Slow. Missionary. I kiss her. She wraps her legs around me and my brow furrows while our lips press together. I don't want to go faster. I don't want it to be over. I want to exist in this place that feels so good it hurts. _

_First._

I come too quickly. Before she does. I can't control it and that fact scares the shit out of me.

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Ever since Bella and I hooked up, Rose's attitude towards me changed, which isn't a surprise. Jasper is less judgmental, but he's also far more observant, which freaks me out. I haven't really gotten to know Alice very well, but in some ways she's a lot like J.

I catch her watching me. No. Fuck. Like, _studying_ me. Like, if she stares long enough she might be able to tell what I'm thinking.

I don't avoid her or anything, but I definitely don't try to spend any time alone with her. Not that the opportunity arises often, but one afternoon Rose drags Bella and Emmett into town, leaving me with Jasper and Alice. Alice sits in a lounge chair on the beach while I hold a spool of fishing line for J, who's relining a rod. They banter back and forth, and with her distracted by J, I really look at her.

She's small. Not fragile, but her whole presence is hesitant. She flinches sometimes when she shouldn't. An unfamiliar protective feeling builds up in me when I think of that creepy fucker hitting her. I would get a sick satisfaction out of feeling his jawbone give way to my fist. If I feel like this, I can only imagine what it must be like for Jasper.

When I return to the present, they're both frowning at me. I look down and realize my hands are fisted together around the spool, and it stopped spinning. Every muscle in my arms is flexed. With effort, I relax and try to smile.

She smiles back warily. Jasper puts down the rod, saying he'll finish it later. He gives me a strange look, and then kisses her forehead before going upstairs to take the ribs off the grill and get more beer.

Alice just sits there and stares at me. I'm in a chair a couple of feet from her, but suddenly I feel like I'm way too close. I feel naked.

She finally speaks. "You're impossible to read, you know that? It's like trying to decipher hieroglyphics."

I just shrug, because...that's kind of the point.

"Can I ask you a question?" Alice says.

"You can ask me anything you want, but that doesn't mean I'll answer." I know my tone is acidic, but I feel like I'm being dissected and that makes me defensive.

She snorts, "Touché."

We sit watching the floating dock spin slowly, straining against its anchor.

"What were you thinking about a minute ago? You looked really…angry." She says the last part quietly, like the word itself could inspire me to get pissed off again. I feel like shit then. She's not looking at me, but I can see her expression is worried.

It's ironic that I was thinking about her ex, when my anger obviously reminded her of him.

_Fuck_.

I rub the back of my neck, wincing. I don't want to tell her.

She turns to me. "I'll make you a deal. You answer honestly, and I will, too."

Normally I wouldn't even consider it, but she's got her legs curled under her like a little kid, and the look on her face is…I nod. "I was thinking about punching that King kid's face in."

She stops, looking at me with confusion. "Why?"

_She's probably shocked that I have a decent bone in my body_.

She clarifies. "I guess it just surprises me that you remember his name." I think that means that I come off as extremely self-absorbed. I shrug again. I can see why she would think that, and in a lot of ways she's totally right.

"Why did you stay with him after he..." I don't want to actually say the words. I don't know all the details, but I know he hit her, and that's enough.

She cringes. I do, too. Her eyes move over the water, like she's searching for an answer there. Maybe I shouldn't have asked that. Maybe we shouldn't be having this conversation at all. When she answers, she doesn't sound as upset as I thought she would, though. "I thought I loved him. I didn't know how it could be." She smiles at that last part, thinking of J, no doubt. Her next question catches me off guard. "What are you and B going to do after this summer?"

I clench my jaw. I've known Bella for less than a month. I've only been fucking her for a little over a week. It's both incredibly intimate, and very new. Either way, I know my answer is cold. "I'm going back to Texas." I don't elaborate, because there's nothing more to say. I'm annoyed, so my tone is biting, but what I ask next makes her laugh. "Why the fuck do women always want to figure men out?"

She shakes her head, smiling. "I don't think it's a gender thing. I think it's human nature to want to understand the people around you. And you, my friend, are a total mystery," she says, looking me over head to toe. "On one hand you're this total cocky jock. No offense, but it's like right out of a teen movie." It's my turn to laugh. "But on the other? You're smarter than you let on, and obviously put up a front." I sober, staring straight ahead. "I guess I want to know…why?"

I think about that for a minute. There's a built in default answer about my father, but that, in truth, doesn't really explain it. Emmett's not like this.

I stumble over the words, probably because they're honest. Even though Emmett and I had this conversation a few days ago, I didn't voice it. I didn't have to, because he already knows. It still feels weird to say the words out loud.

"I don't know how to live up to expectations. I fucking…I don't want to have people depend on me for shit, and I don't want to depend on anyone, so I just don't…do that." She gives me this look, like she understands, but I don't think she can so I change the subject. "What about you and Jasper?"

She looks sad. "I don't know yet. Even though I've only known him for a month, I think being apart from him will ache like a phantom limb."

"I think he feels the same," I say, knowing how he looks at her. "Which makes him a total pussy."

She laughs loudly, and reaches over to smack my arm. "Asshole."

"A truer statement has never been spoken." I laugh, too.

"Alright, one more. If you like her so much, and I know you do," she says seriously, her raised eyebrow daring me to disagree. I can't, and my chest constricts under the full weight of that statement. "Why don't you even try?"

No emotion registers on my face. Some little, repressed part of me wants to cry, though.

"Because I shouldn't even have started this shit," I say, my voice low. "I'm going to hurt her." I haven't said that out loud to anyone, not even Em. I can't even look at Alice, because knowing that, and still doing what I'm doing, is unforgivable.

"Beer here!" Jasper yells, walking down the steps with a whole case. By the time he reaches the bottom, he's picked up on the vibe. He brings the case into the boathouse to put it in the fridge, his eyes flicking between us.

Alice leans forward and whispers, knowing he'll come out in a second. "You can change the way things are, Edward. I think you know that." I can feel her eyes on me, but I don't look up, staring at a spot in the sand. "You're just scared."

I feel a little off for the rest of the day. I lay awake that night, listening to her breathe next to me.

The next day I'm tired, and still stuck in my own head. I think what I'm feeling might be guilt, but I try not to dwell on it.

We take siestas when it gets too hot in the afternoon, relaxing in the quiet cool of her bedroom. Her skin smells like sun and her hair twists into thick ropes from the lake water.

The ceiling fan circles lazily; her skin breaks out in light goose bumps that fade slowly as she adjusts to the temperature. My hands have been following the same path across her flat stomach between her hipbones for a few minutes.

She looks down at me, concerned. I wasn't sure if she noticed my unease over the last day since my conversation with Alice, but the girl is nothing if not perceptive.

"What's wrong?" she whispers.

I can't even say, because I'm not really sure. I keep trying to figure out why this feels different- why the impulse to stay and hold her keeps winning out over the rational side of my brain that's telling me to get out before someone gets hurt.

Before _she _gets hurt...I think.

I need to tell her; say something to remind her that I'm no good for her. But she's always kissing my neck, or saying something perfect, or looking good with her hair sprawled over her pillow. She distracts me in the best ways, and I want to be distracted, so I let it happen.

She's fucking consuming me, yet I have this shitty, nagging feeling underneath it all. Like...was there supposed to be some conversation about what this is?

Every time I come to this, though, I touch her and try to stifle that annoying voice in my head.

I redirect my thoughts back to her body and mine...back to familiar ground.

I think of what I want to do to her. I concentrate on the beating of her heart, the swell of her breast and her smooth skin.

We skipped some shit. We went from kissing to sex in the span of about five minutes. Now I want to go back and show her what we missed. I want to see her lips wrapped around my cock. I want to slide my tongue over slick, sensitive skin. I want to be _right_ _there_ when she comes.

And with that thought, I dip my head to kiss her hipbone. The best distraction.

"Nothing. Just thinking," I answer finally, touching my tongue to her skin.

"About what?" she asks, her eyes closed, thick lashes against her cheek.

"This." I untie the strings of her bikini on one side, slowly pushing it back to expose her. She's smooth, waxed, but not totally bare. I place one kiss close to where I want to be, but not quite. She shudders, pulling me up toward her and fumbling with my shorts. I stop her, placing her hands at her sides.

She squirms under my gaze, not understanding. Her legs spread unconsciously, and I know she wants me to move between her thighs. I take her top off, the wet fabric leaving pale, damp skin behind. We both watch the contrast of her light skin against the deep tan of my hands with shallow breath. She reaches for me again, but I move back down, untying the other side and pulling the thin material completely off.

I'm about to do something I don't do often. Something that's intimate in a way that normally makes me uncomfortable. I want to, though. A lot. She gasps when my lips make contact with her skin, and I grab her hips to keep them on the bed while I kiss my way down to where her skin is still cold, stopping before I come into contact with radiating heat.

In my relatively limited experience in oral, most girls protest here, right at this point. I've never understood that insecurity, and I'm happy to find she doesn't have it. At all, apparently, as she pushes up against my hands, her knees moving farther apart.

I press my tongue just below her clit, letting it slide slowly up, and she writhes, covering her mouth with one hand and rocking slightly. She tastes like water and sun and clean and warmth. I listen to her to see what she likes. I don't use my fingers much, but kiss every inch, looking for her sweet spots, aside from the obvious. Women are complicated like that. You need to be attentive, which is another reason I don't do this often.

She likes long, broad strokes and the gentle pressure of my fingers just inside her, pressing up. I alternate my movements, looking for the combination that's going to make her unravel. An open-mouthed kiss to her clit, slight suction, and she stills, tensing for a few long seconds before swearing, pushing hard against my tongue and clenching around the tips of my fingers.

She finishes with a shaky breath, and I lay next to her, smiling smugly.

"Fuck," she says simply. "You're good at that."

I think about that. I guess I assumed that I was the first here, but I'm probably not. This kicks up a wave of anger and...arousal.

My voice comes out unevenly, saying more than I want it to. "Was that your first time...for that?"

She opens her eyes, turning to look at me curiously. "I wasn't a nun before I met you, Edward." She flips onto her side when she registers my expression. "Why do you look mad?" she asks cautiously. This is the second time that a girl has asked me that in as many days, with that same uneasy look on her face.

"I like being the first," I mumble.

She laughs abruptly. "I'm sure I would have, too."

My chest hurts. She closes her eyes like she's going to fall asleep.

"I didn't mean it like that," I say after a minute. I actually mean that I'm sorry, but can't say the words.

"I know." She doesn't sound upset, just tired, so I leave it alone.

We nap after that, or she does, but I lay awake, painfully hard thinking about what I just did to her. I get up after a while, mostly because I'm hungry. I find a pineapple on her kitchen counter, so I cut it up and find stuff to make sandwiches.

I leave a plate for her on the counter, and she joins me in the living room when she wakes up, her bikini back in place. I'm glad she didn't put a dress on.

She eats only the pineapple, letting the juice run down her fingers and licking it off. We don't talk. I don't know how to ask her for what I want. I'm not sure I've ever had to ask. Most of the time I just find myself standing in front of a girl on her knees, offering like I would offer to buy a girl a drink. Shit, I don't even really do that, though.

She just sits there staring at me, though, a smile teasing her lips. Like she knows.

"Will you...?" I finally ask, looking down at where I'm straining against my board shorts.

She follows my eyes, and then cocks her head when she looks back up at me. "Will I...?"

Fuck. She's always doing this. She doesn't make shit easy. I think I like it. "Will you suck my dick?"

She laughs so hard she doubles over, clutching her stomach. Every time she tries to get it together she meets my eyes and it starts all over again. It takes her two full minutes to regain enough composure to respond.

"God. Yes, of course I will. I just..." she descends into another fit of giggles. "I've never had anyone ask me so bluntly."

"I've never asked before," I shrug, a little embarrassed, but also really fucking hard, because she said she would.

She picks up another piece of fruit, eating it slowly, watching my reaction.

_Fucking tease._

She gets up, standing in front of me biting her lip with this smug look on her face. I'm a little surprised. I wear the smug smile here. She grabs a throw pillow and drops it between my legs on the floor.

"You don't have to-"

"Shut the fuck up, Edward," she whispers, leaning over to press her index finger to my lips. "Close your eyes."

I protest, "I want to watch."

She lowers herself to her knees and glares at me until I listen, leaning my head back. There's nothing for a second. I hear her shifting. I can feel her body close to mine. My pulse speeds in anticipation.

Her hands run down my chest, and when she reaches my shorts, she pulls them down slowly, freeing me. And then...nothing. I open my eyes to look at the ceiling, waiting for what seems like _forever_, so I start to sit up. Her hand pushes forcefully on my chest, and I lay back.

It's only been a week, but I haven't seen her do anything like this yet. I have both good and bad feelings about it, because her confidence probably means that we're encountering something she's familiar with, and is most likely good at.

Her hands are hot against my skin, which is still cool from my damp shorts. She's got a hand on each hip, mirroring my position from earlier.

"B-" I'm starting to feel really exposed, but the warm wet of her tongue licks up from beneath the head of my cock slowly. It's like she's showing me that she liked that when I did it to her, and wants to give it back. She hums quietly, once, like she likes the taste, and the moan that escapes my throat is guttural. I don't even try to stifle it. I want to see her so bad that I have to fight to keep my head back. I can almost feel her smile as she kisses the head with an open mouth, gradually working her lips around it and sucking lightly.

One hand releases my hip and wraps around the base of my cock firmly. Her tongue does something I can't describe as she moves lower, and it makes me buck up into her mouth. She backs up a little, controlling the pace, moving her hand on my hip to hold it down more firmly. Her mouth moves down a little faster now, until I hit the back of her throat. I can feel her swallow. She stops there, and both of us hold our breath. I realize that I'm fisting a pillow, and every muscle in my body is tensed, waiting. She pulls up slowly, working her hand up and down, letting the moisture coat her palm, tightening her grip.

Fuck, she's good.

I can tell she's done this before. I get the same rage mixed with arousal that I had when she told me someone had licked her pussy before, and I harden further in her hot mouth. The hand on my hip disappears, leaving the skin cold in its absence, and she grips harder. I imagine what this looks like, and I wish she was still holding me down, because I'm going to push up again if I'm not careful. I'm lost in my blindness, never knowing her next move, unable to anticipate her pace and whether or not she's watching my jaw clench and my abs tense.

Now when my hips shift, she doesn't back away, letting me inch further in, but she's in control here and that's obvious. I'm shaking, trying to hold back. Not only am I trying to keep myself from thrusting down her throat, I'm trying to keep my hands from reaching for the back of her head.

Even I'm not that big of a fucking asshole.

Then, it changes. Her mouth sits wet around my head, while her tongue slides back and forth across my sensitive skin. Her fist moves up and down, squeezing at the base and up, releasing a little on the down stroke. I raise my head, because I fucking _need_ to see.

Her eyes are closed, her pink lips kissing my cock, her hand moving slowly, rhythmically. She's enjoying it, in tune to my breathing. She strokes up hard, pulling back to look up at me. She smiles, one eyebrow raised, and resumes her actions, moaning around me now.

I notice that her left hand is between her thighs and sit up further to look; her bikini is untied again on one side, her hand sliding up and down as she arches into her own touch.

Without warning, I bust hard into her mouth, a strangled moan stuttering out of my throat. I watch her swallow and pull back with a smile after she slows her motions to a stop.

She laughs lightly, touching her lips delicately to the back of her hand.

I kind of expect her to ask if it was good, or okay, or whatever, but she just shrugs.

I stand up, pulling her up by her hands at the same time. She's still smirking as she ties her bikini bottoms back on. I don't bother with my board shorts.

I think about all the things I'm going to do to wipe it off of her face.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask as she starts walking toward her room.

"To get dressed," she says lightly. She peeks back at me over her shoulder and raises an eyebrow. A challenge.

"Oh, you are in so much trouble, girl."

She takes off running, and I'm right behind her, fast enough to grab her around the waist and spin her, throwing her over my shoulder. She laughs, trying to slap my bare ass while I carry her to her bed so I can reclaim my smug smile for good.

There are still things we haven't done yet. I want to be the first for every single one of them, because I won't have this soon. I won't have her.

I do the only thing I know how to do -I push the thought down, and lay back on the bed, pulling her up to straddle me. For a second, we look into each other's eyes, and I can't breathe. She's smiling, the smugness gone, only happiness and hope. The only reason I slip my fingers into her is to make her eyes close, because I can't have that expression on me for even one more second.

I fuck her to get out of talking about my reservations.

It's the only thing I'm sure of. It's the only thing I know how to do. And I know I'll regret it.


	2. The Wake

**Hi!**

**In honor of the date and the fact that I'm heading up to the family cabin later this week and that makes me ache for this story, I wrote you some Prickward. It's EPOV, post-Tanya, and pre-Thanksgiving. **

**There's a reference in here that may only make sense if you read the other outtake, but it's not imperative by any means. **

**I missed this kid a whole lot. **

**As always, it's rated M for lemons and language and all-around naughtiness.**

* * *

If I try, I can still remember why this used to get my dick hard. I mean, it's not like I have trouble getting it up...I just used to enjoy this more.

The heat, the tight female bodies pressed together for my benefit and the liquor in my red plastic cup; it's all there to feed the sexual tension. The beat bumps like the rhythm of fucking, and these girls know that. Their fingers slide down taut thighs and over hard nipples that show through thin fabric, teasing themselves just as much as they're trying to tease me.

Trying.

Failing.

I watch, detached, and I doubt anyone can tell the difference. No one expects me to be anything but aloof and cocky. Boredom slips in there unnoticed.

We're sitting at what would be the edge of the party, but it seems to fan out around me no matter where I am so I'm always at the center. That feeling is something I used to get off on. These days I just want people to leave me the fuck alone, though. They don't. So tonight I want to get blasted enough that I don't give a shit that they're there.

The guys stand around talking football and pussy while chicks shake their assets like they're sellin' it, waiting for us to choose. The desperate ones get up close, grinding on each other like strippers, but the best ones don't even dance, they just stand around all confident and shit, twitching their asses to the beat.

One of my teammates is blabbing into my left ear, and I'm nodding when I'm supposed to, I think, but I'm half focused on his words. He's talking about some chick I've totally already fucked with, and I'm pretty sure the story he's telling is bullshit but I don't call him out. Doesn't matter, anyway. I got there first.

_First._

_Goddamn it._

Rubbing my eyes, I try to get rid of the fucking mental image that the word "first" conjures up. I need a break from that shit. Just for the night.

I'm just…tired. Emmett's in LA again, and the loft is fucking boring without him. I come out to these house parties just to be seen and to get led into an empty bedroom to nut on some girl's tits.

That thought doesn't do what it used to, though. I realize that I'm looking at the girls a few feet in front of me, and I'm looking at their faces…their eyes. One of them stops, giving me a weird look that morphs into a small, surprised smile. I suddenly feel like she really _sees_ me which makes me look away, making it clear that I'm not interested by sneering while I do it.

I don't want reality, or conversation, or for someone to look at me like she just did. I force myself to focus on tits. Tits and asses.

_Not _faces.

I down my drink and one of the guys pours more JD in it. I don't even have to hold out my cup.

"Where's Emmett, man? Is he with that chick in Cali again?" Ben asks, and I hate that he says "Cali". It's just…annoying. He's fucking annoying. I just nod, though, looking further into the crowd to watch two girls making out, the guys around them yelling and raising their cups. My eyes drift. Same old shit. "He's totally pussy-whipped, huh?"

I shrug, and try not to think about why I'm annoyed by that statement.

She still drifts through my thoughts, though. _Bella._ My fists clench, and I wish I could beat her name out of mind.

Instead, I take the liquor in my cup in one chug, cringing at the burn.

Someone goes to refill it but I shake my head and get up, moving toward the kitchen where the kegs are. People get out of the way for me, and a girl named Leah that I once hammered away at in a closet stops me and grabs my crotch, pressing herself against me. "Hey, handsome," she says in her throaty voice. "Find me later if you want."

I nod, because I want, but when I look into her eyes they're blurry with booze, and her red lipstick is smeared a little in one corner. She stumbles backward when I try to remove her hand from the vicinity of my cock, but doesn't register the rebuff, just winking at me as I push past her.

It's the same story with Jessica, who pauses her game of strip poker to get up and drag her teeth lightly against my neck, purring like a fucking cat. She's already down to her bra and a tiny skirt. Normally if I saw that shit I would pull her out the back door right away because that girl is _tight_...but that just makes me think about _her_ again, and this time it's accompanied by a heavy dose of guilt.

_Fuck_.

I cringe, turning away from Jessica without answering the question she whispered loudly in my ear. The fact that she has a filthy mouth used to turn me on, but now it just sounds fucking trashy. She goes back to her game when I ignore her, and while I'm filling my cup she loses her hand again and has to take off her skirt. She bends over in my direction while she slides it off, her thong sitting just below her tramp stamp.

Or as my teammates have dubbed it, "the cum catcher".

I walk out the back door alone, holding it together even though the whiskey is starting to make my cheeks hot and my thoughts slow. Before anyone at the bonfire can see me, I duck into the corner of the yard, choosing one of the old chairs in the corner where no one is sitting.

It feels good to just be alone, and I look up to see if I can spot any stars. My eyes close when I think of how badly I wish we were still at the lake. Before all that shit went down, I was actually really happy. Now I do all the same things that I used to, but I get none of the satisfaction. I set my beer down and pull my flask of whiskey out, taking a long pull while I look at the sky.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't everything go back to the way it used to be?

"Are you alright?" a small voice sounds out from somewhere behind me, and I sit upright. A girl walks out from the deeper shadows by the porch and sits in the chair next to me, eyeing me with a frown. I shift away from her, slightly uncomfortable, and light a cigarette.

She's cute, with big brown eyes and long brown hair and the innocent, untainted expression of a freshman. Her skin is smooth in the faint light from the bonfire.

For the second time tonight, someone is looking at me like they really see me, and it makes me avert my eyes. It occurs to me that the problem here isn't other people…it's me. Whatever shit I'm going through is showing on my face.

"Yeah, I'm good," I say, still not looking at her, my face set in a detached mask that feels familiar and somehow wrong at the same time.

"I'm Bree. My friends call me B," she says. My eyes drop to the ground when she says her nickname, and I laugh once under my breath.

The universe is fucking with me.

She's sitting sideways in her chair facing me, clasping a plastic cup just like mine. It's mostly full and she doesn't seem drunk.

"Edw-"

"I know who you are," she says in her high-pitched voice, her tone turning accusatory. "You had sex with my roommate, Rachel, last week."

Her brashness makes me smile. I nod slowly. If she's talking about who I think she's talking about, that chick was rowdy and kind of mean.

"That sucks," I say, and qualify the statement when I see her confused expression. I clear my throat, aware that I've only spoken a few words since I got here hours ago. "I mean that sucks you have to room with her. She's…."

"Abrasive? Hateful? _Demonic_? " she suggests, chuckling dryly when I do.

"Yeah, something like that," I say, and observe the action at the bonfire in front of me, wishing I was in a different place watching a different cast of characters act out this scene. I don't belong here anymore. I don't belong anywhere.

This "B" chick sort of realizes that I'm not going to be much of a conversationalist, so she just talks- telling me about her hometown in the Pacific Northwest, her dog Riley, her parents and her little brother, not pausing long enough for me to comment, and not seeming to require a response either way. There's an undercurrent of loneliness underneath her words that I can relate to, and I find myself actually listening to her.

"So that's how I ended up here. I'm not really sure how I feel about it yet, though," she says, looking around the party, her voice finally trailing off. I nod to show that I understand.

She seems really…innocent. Naive, even.

I get the sensation that she's staring at me and look over slowly. She is.

"What?" I ask, downing half of my beer in one long gulp and taking a final drag off of my cigarette before flicking it into the yard. The armor that drunkenness provides might be necessary if I'm gonna sit here and talk to this chick.

"So, do you just, like…sleep with people?"

Her tone and the look on her face make me crack up. "I don't know. I guess," I answer, smiling and shaking my head until the sadness of that creeps in and sobers my expression.

"What about someone like me?"

I turn, raising my eyebrows. Her blush is deep and her hair is shiny, her skin pale and creamy. My eyes travel down to her small waist and long legs. She's not showing much skin but I can tell she's got a great body.

"B…right?" I ask, even though I know that's right. She nods, dazed. This would be so easy. The right hair, the right size, the right…name. Her breathing is shallow and she looks at my lips. But she seems nervous.

"Do _you_ just, like, sleep with people?" I ask, using her words. She blinks a few times, coming to before shaking her head slowly and swallowing.

"No, I mean…" she takes a breath, her blush getting deeper, "…no."

I get a fucked up sense of déjà vu and drain the rest of my beer. "Look, you're really cute, and you make me laugh, but you don't want it to be like this." I say the next part cautiously, watching her reaction. "Not your first time."

She drops her eyes to the ground then, her eyes fixed at a point on the grass. "Something about me just screams virgin, doesn't it?" she asks quietly. "I thought maybe if I just put it out there… I get that it's totally a long shot… I mean…you're _Edward_ _Cullen_. I just watch all these chicks act so forward, and it seems like that's what guys like." She smiles then, looking down at herself. "Maybe I should've dressed like a skank."

That makes me laugh, and I'm a little relieved when she does, too. This could have been really awkward, but for some reason it's not.

"Would you believe me if I said it's not you, it's me?" I ask.

She smiles, but her tone is dry. "That's original."

"Why do you want to lose it so bad, anyway? Especially to some random guy you just met?"

It takes her a minute to answer. "I'm just tired of being the odd one out, I guess. And you're not random. I think at one time or another you've probably been featured in the fantasies of every girl at this school."

There's no joy in my responding smile.

"Who is she?" she asks after a minute of silence. My body freezes, like I'm bracing myself for pain, but when it doesn't come I realize it's because it's already there. Exhaling heavily, I bring the flask to my lips.

"You don't know her," I mumble, staring straight ahead as I reacquaint myself with the flask over and over until it's gone. "I should go," I say, getting up and stretching. Her eyes are trained on my stomach where my shirt is riding up.

She catches me catching her and stands up, smiling sheepishly. I kind of want to ruffle her hair. Other than the fact that she seems to be able to read me too well, she seems like a nice girl.

"You're not like what I thought you would be. When I saw you with Rachel…it was like you were just some asshole jock…but you actually seem like a decent guy."

"Maybe I'm both," I answer, hoping I don't sound as fucked up about it as I feel. After hesitating for a second, I lean down and brush my lips against her cheek. "See you around," I say, leaving my cup behind on my chair and walking back into the house with my hands shoved in my pockets.

I intend to just say goodbye to the guys, but Jessica corners me on my way out the front door, fully clothed again—or as fully clothed as she gets.

This time I let her lead me back to her apartment. She's a senior and actually a really smart girl. She's also freaky, so we do it in her kitchen.

I can't fucking come, though. I don't go soft, I just know at some point that it's not going to happen because even when I close my eyes and pretend she's someone else, I can't.

She came, so she doesn't care, and lets me crash on her couch. I don't really want to share the bed with her.

I don't do that.

An hour later I'm still awake. I can't stop thinking about Bella, and my dick literally aches.

I sit up to make sure Jessica's door is closed and take a moment to think about whether or not I should do this here. My cock wins, though. Like always.

I slide my right hand down my stomach and into my boxer briefs, close but not touching myself yet. My hips buck automatically and I see her face, that look she would get when she knew she was teasing me.

I just want to be touched. Maybe that's what I miss most.

Okay, no it's not, but I crave that affection. When her hands were on my skin it wasn't just about getting off, it was her showing me how she felt through her fingers.

I shake my head, trying to get rid of that line of thought because it makes me feel like a fucking pussy.

I grab myself roughly, like I can muscle the feelings out of this. Stroking up hard, I thumb just under the head, and I force myself to think of only her body... not her eyes, or her lips or…

_Fuck._

My mind stretches for a memory that won't hurt.

"_C'mere," I whisper, reaching for her and pulling one of her legs over my shoulder to straddle my face. She is using only her mouth, teasing me at the tip slowly, and I decide to reciprocate__.__I __palm her hips and us__e__ my thumbs to spread her further for me __- __not touching, just watching and breathing and connecting what she's doing to me with what I'm looking at. _

_Her hips roll and thrust after a minute, fighting against my hold on her while she whines around me, her mouth full. That thought makes me push up, struggling against her hands on my hips like she's struggling against mine. _

"_Shhhhh." She quiets as I move my thumbs closer, but I can feel her shaking, trying to stay still. I pull her closer to me and move my hands lower so I can see where I know she wants my mouth first. She's wet and swollen because we've been at this for an hour. I bet my cock tastes like her. _

_I get my tongue close to her clit but don't touch it, exhaling so she can feel I'm there._

_I fall out of her mouth heavily when she raises her head, panting into the quiet of her room. "Edward," she says, her tone warning and desperate at the same time. I exhale again, and she shakes. "Please." The word comes out quiet and fast, but she might as well have screamed it. _

_The tip of my tongue touches her then and she freezes__.__W__hen I close my mouth around her clit she drops her head, swearing, and then I'm holding her up by her hips, her lips sliding over my cock again without taking it in her mouth. _

_She does it all at once, the angle allowing me to slide into her throat further than I think I __ever __have before. She tenses and backs up__.__H__er mouth is wetter after that, and her hand strokes me tighter. I touch her everywhere. Places that I've never touched her before. She's hesitant, but she lets me anyway, pushing back against my fingers when she relaxes and it starts to feel good. _

I think I hear something and stop, my dick hard and hot, the pulse throbbing against my palm. Nothing happens so I continue, panting now, my head thrown back against the arm of the couch.

_She comes quietly, her whole body tensing and her hand slowing to a stop while she rides it out. _

_Without missing a beat she gets up and __still __facing away from me, slides onto my dick slowly. _

I focus on that movement, her tight little ass bouncing, and squeeze harder and stroke faster and wait for the feeling I've been waiting for…but it doesn't come.

I'm so fucking angry when I realize what I need that it almost brings tears to my eyes. My teeth grit together in one final effort to push myself over the edge, but when it doesn't work I let it go and let my mind do what it needs to.

_She gets tired and climbs over my legs, flopping down on her back__,__ panting __and __smiling. I grab her ankle and kiss it, her skin hot under my hands, her muscles tight. Sitting up, I spread her legs and kneel between them, her stomach flexing at my touch. __S__he's still got the hint of a smile__ on her face__, her eyes closed and her mouth open, chest rising and falling. I move over her, holding myself up with my arms and running my lips over her chest, biting and kissing until I get to her neck. Her arms reach up and run down my back while I push into her. I back up and she wraps her legs around me, __as __her eyes open wide at the new angle. She licks her lips and reaches down to touch herself while I keep going. _

_"That's so good," she whispers, and I can tell she's close __again __when her brow furrows and she tries to keep her eyes open. _

_"Bella," I moan as she gets tighter, her eyes holding mine while she comes._

I spill hard into my hand and on my stomach, breathing in short puffs. I fall back, throwing one arm over my eyes, relieved.

Jessica laughs once, and when I look up her mouth is hanging open in disbelief.

She eyes me, the silence painfully awkward.

"Who's Bella?" she asks curiously.

My face is hot from embarrassment and exertion, and I turn to stare at the ceiling and catch my breath.

I don't have an answer for that question.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! **

**Happy July 5th, friends. :)**


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